


Revival

by Thomas_C_Penwolf



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Action, Adventure, Angst, Drama, F/M, M/M, Other, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28561302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thomas_C_Penwolf/pseuds/Thomas_C_Penwolf
Summary: Nico is ordered to investigate certain abnormalities in Europe with Jason and Leo; in the middle of the mission he disappears and goes to Hogwarts. Percy, Frank and Hazel are sent to join Jason and Leo to find him. Upon discovering the new magical world, the six are ordered to stay and continue their research.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Oliver Wood, Leo Valdez/Frank Zhang, Nico di Angelo/Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Revival
> 
> Universe / Fandom: Harry Potter & Percy Jackson and the Heroes of Olympus
> 
> Summary: Nico is ordered to investigate certain abnormalities in Europe with Jason and Leo; in the middle of the mission he disappears and goes to Hogwarts. Percy, Frank and Hazel are sent to join Jason and Leo to find him. Upon discovering the new magical world, the six are ordered to stay and continue their research.
> 
> Classification / Genres: M. Adventure/Romance/Drama/Action
> 
> Warnings: Yaoi and/or Slash (and anything else that comes to mind in the course of my Machiavellian mind, so you've been warned). Possible scenes with a high degree of violence, sexual content and adult vocabulary. If any part of this bothers you or makes you uncomfortable, you'd better leave now, otherwise you're free to read at your own risk. (Although, let's be honest, no one listens to this muahahahaha)
> 
> Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. They are the property of their respective creators Tio Rick and J.K. Rowling. I only take credit for the creation of this story which is entirely my own. I do not do this for profit, plagiarism or defamation. It's just a recreational form in which I want us all to have a good time reading n_n
> 
> Author's Notes:
> 
> EY! It's been a while since I last uploaded a new fic. Only this time it's a small new initiative. I originally publish my stories and fic's in Spanish, but I thought it would be interesting to see how the receptivity would be in other languages. So please support me with your precious Reviews! A review is part of the balanced diet of every good writer n_n
> 
> Well, ladies and gentlemen, without further ado I hope to be able to count on your support throughout this initiative that occurred to me.
> 
> So, ladies, gentlemen, ladies, ladies and other reading lovers, if this is the first time you read something of mine, get ready for a whole emotional roller coaster that you won't get off of in a while... And for those of you who already know me and have experience with my stories... Well, I'll just say: hold on to that chair as if your lives depended on it *insert evil laughter, lightning and background music* n_n!

Preface

Privet Drivet, no. 4:

Harry thought that this could be the best summer of his life. Which was not too difficult to achieve. He'd already had some pretty bad ones.

But it was better not to think about them; it was better to continue packing, even though he still had five days left. It all began with a letter from Ron telling him that his father had won tickets to the World Cup final in Quidditch, Ireland against Bulgaria; which, in Ron's words, would be the most incredible match in two centuries. If he added to that that he would leave the Dursleys' house in the middle of the summer vacation to finish it off at The Burrow; well, it would be the best summer of his life.

-Of course, while he still had a couple of days to spend with his uncles. But he wanted to make that time as unpleasant as possible, so he closed his suitcase and came down as fast as he could.

-Yes, Uncle Vernon," he asked as conciliately as he could when he saw his uncle standing in front of the hall door with a letter in his hands.

-Harry knew that in Vernon's state, where he controlled himself by not shouting, he was not to do anything that would tempt his luck even slightly.

-Hey, a letter? -But I couldn't help being sarcastic, just a little.

-Don't play with me, kid.

Thanks to his momentary attack of rebellion he had to endure a whole sermon, and one of the good ones, from his uncle; apparently Mrs. Weasley had thought it would be appropriate to ask the Dursleys' consent to take him away for the remainder of his vacation. Although it was thanks to Sirius, indirectly, that Harry was finally able to obtain permission to go; he only had to insinuate that he would write a letter to his godfather and all the fumes went down to Uncle Vernon as quickly as a stone in the water.

Now it was just a matter of enduring five more days with the diet imposed on the whole family out of solidarity with Dudley, it is worth adding that none of them agreed willingly, and could go to the Quidditch World Cup. I didn't know why, but I had a feeling that this was going to be a great year.

-O-

Far away from there, flying over the sky of Great Britain, three boys had serious problems to keep themselves on the back of the dragon they were riding:

-Jason! Leo Valdez was holding on to the reins as he shouted to make himself heard.

-I'm trying...! -But the son of Jupiter was too exhausted from his previous battle against all those Telkines to now face a herd of very annoying Anemoi Ventis -But there are too many of them!

-Behind the blonde, Nico was clinging to the saddle - anywhere!

-What do you think I've been trying to do?! -But these things keep getting on Festus' wings! They won't let us go down! Unless they want to go down!

In spite of all the noise they could hear the beautiful curse in Greek that the son of Hades released.

-But, this is strange..." I thought Jason... "Blizzards are not that coordinated, something or someone must be...

-Jason! -But he reacted too late, as soon as he turned around he could barely hold Nico's hand that was being pulled by the winds:

-Between the effort of grabbing his partner and staying on the dragon's back Jason could no longer keep the storm winds at bay.

-While Leo and Festus were trying to keep away all blizzards with fire, but the fatal mistake was that by destroying one, an air void was formed; inevitably Nico was sucked and falling unconscious because of the air torn from his lungs, was dragged by the powerful air currents into the darkness of the night:

-The thunder rumbled in the storm, momentarily illuminating the mountains at his feet and making the dragon's bronze shine. That discharge had drained him completely, but it was enough to clear the storm; now, exhausted and leaning on Leo's back, he kept repeating We have to...

-Calm down, friend. Leo helped you hold on to him better. -We'll find him.


	2. Dreams and Visions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felicis Festum!
> 
> Hahahaha I guess you will be happy to see the first chapter before what I said, but the truth is I couldn't resist to do it... Ok I confess, I want more Reviews! Hahahaha although I got some very good ones just with the preface, thanks!
> 
> Well I'm warning you, this will be a slow story! Hahaha but well you know me, don't worry the drama doesn't start... Even MUAJAJAJAJA
> 
> Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. They are the property of their respective creators. I am not doing this for profit, plagiarism or defamation.

Chapter 1:

"Dreams and Visions"

Little Hangleton was a small, little-known town. One of those with a small population where everyone knew everyone, just a tavern, a small square and a lot of farms. The only reason the surrounding villages knew them was because of that macabre history that circulated around them. The one that, it was said, had happened in the old mansion that crowned the town from the highest hill. A huge, elegant building, as old as it was abandoned.

In fact, it had been about thirteen years since it happened, but the people of little Hangleton still called it The Ryddle Mansion.

Those who had been there still remembered how the cook had run down the hill in the morning, white as wax and sweating cold, screaming at the top of her lungs:

-They are dead! They are dead! -She cried out in terror as she ran, calling everyone's attention and waking up those who were still asleep. When she finally arrived at the square she already had a crowd watching her.

-Carmen! What happened? -What were those screams?

-They're dead! Dead!" she repeated in terror, "I've seen them. They were sitting there, cold as ice, with their eyes wide open. And they were still wearing their dinner clothes.

-Calm down woman, who are you talking about?

-From the Ryddle, Sam! -The Ryddle!

That was a day when the only tavern in the place, El Ahorcado, had a good time. Everyone from Little Hangleton was gathered there talking about the murder of the richest family in the place. The police had arrived and picked up the bodies, studied the crime scene and arrested the only suspect.

-You say they've taken Frank?

-Yes, Bryce was the gardener of the mansion.

-He always seemed like a strange guy, very mysterious.

-But why would I kill the Ryddle? -

That was the same question. Tom Ryddle Senior was a fine man, elegant but not a bad person, perhaps a little pretentious and banal, but all the rich were, and besides he and his wife gave work to many people in the village as servants in their mansion. Among them was Frank Bryce.

The man was in the custody of investigators all night, answering questions and confirming facts. As he was always the first employee to arrive at the mansion, so he was the last to leave, living in a small house at the end of the mansion grounds. Unable to find any incriminating evidence, Frank Bryce was released.

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Almost half a century had passed since that sinister event, and the villagers of Little Hangleton were still afraid to speak of those sinister events. The mansion, which in its time was the largest and most elegant manor house within a radius of several miles was now abandoned, had several windows boarded up or with broken glass, some fallen tiles and poison ivy growing where it pleased.

The garden that covered the surrounding land was full of weeds, with the grass being too high and being the perfect nest for snakes and insects. However, there was one section of the garden that showed it was being lightly tended. After so many years, old Frank Bryce was still living in the same old house and doing his job as a gardener. Although now, he was practically an old man with a broken leg, who had to use a cane to avoid his limp.

One night, the pain in his leg was especially strong, so he went to the kitchen and heated up some water. A compress with warm water always helped to soothe the pain. He sat down in an old chair and put his cane aside. As he waited for the water to boil he looked out the window, through which he could see the old mansion of his former employers and a small light coming from one of the upper floors.

-Vandals...-Grumpy taking his cane. It was not the first time that the young people of the village had come to the mansion to drink, or do stupid things among themselves. He took a flashlight and left his house on his way to the mansion. The road was not that bumpy, but his limp leg along with all the undergrowth made it quite uncomfortable. He arrived at the entrance and, indeed, the main door was open.

Inside everything was as usual, old, covered with dust and the air was impregnated with humidity. His lame steps were muffled on the old carpet, but he could hear slight noises coming from the upper floors. When he began to climb the stairs the steps creaked under his weight. He carried nothing but his flashlight and his cane, he needed no more to frighten the village brats. But there was something that worried him, as if the very air was pressing down on him, he could even see his own breath because of a cold he did not feel.

I arrive at the third floor and notice that this is where the noise came from. He could see a thin line of light that extended through the rotten wood of the floor, coming from the room in the background. Old Bryce walked over there, with his flashlight off and his ear tuned:

-My Lord, how much longer are we going to stay here? That was not the voice of any of the boys in the village, not even a young man. It was the voice of a grown man, shy and cowardly. A second voice answered, cold and hissing:

-One week, maybe more. As far as we can tell this place is comfortable and we still can't carry out the plan. It would be crazy to do anything before the end of the Quidditch World Cup.

-Why should we wait, my lord?

-Because at this moment numerous magicians are coming to the country to attend the World Cup-

-But, sir...

-A few seconds later a sharp whistle traveled through the air filling the room, the corridor and piercing the bones of the old gardener. I did not understand what it was all about, but I knew that these people were dangerous. The best thing would be to leave there and pretend I had never seen anything. But when he wanted to return, he felt something brush against his leg. When he looked down he could hardly avoid uttering a cry of terror. A huge black snake like onyx was crawling on the ground, touching his lame leg. However, the reptile ignored him and went into the same room where those men were-Ahh, Nagini brings interesting news, Wormtail.

-What are they, my lord?

-Apparently there's an old Muggle out there listening to everything we say. But he didn't have a chance to escape, the door just opened revealing a short, fat, rat-faced man.

-Side Colagusano, I want to greet our guest correctly- The old gardener was frozen in place. He watched as the man named Wormtail, trying to hide his disgusted expression, retreated to an old single sofa in front of the lit fireplace. When Bryce had his chair facing him, his cane fell clumsily. He opened his mouth and let out a great cry. I can't understand what that thing was saying as it raised a wand. He saw a reaper glowing with green light and heard a click before he collapsed. By the time he hit the ground, Frank Bryce was dead.

Three hundred kilometers away, a boy named Harry Potter woke up in a hurry.

¸,ø¤º°°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°°º¤ø,¸°°ø¤º,º¤ø°°ø¤º,¸,º¤ø°°ø¤º,¸°°º¤ø,¸ ¸,ø¤º°°¸,

Harry was lying on his back looking at the ceiling. He had been sleeping peacefully in his room, when suddenly a sharp pain in his head woke him up. He felt agitated and sweaty. The pain was coming from his forehead, right from the lightning scar he had had since he was a baby. It wasn't the first time his scar had hurt, but it hadn't hurt that badly in a long time. She could feel the pain diminishing slowly, but she was far from sleeping again.

Uncovering himself, left alone in his pajamas, he sat down at the edge of his bed leaving his bare feet to rest on the cold wood floor. He took his hand to his forehead and wiped off his sweat. He bent down, leaving his elbows on his knees as he concentrated. He remembered that he had been dreaming something before he woke up. He squeezed his brain, but all he could get were vague ideas: an abandoned mansion, an old cane, a snake

Nothing that had any special meaning for him. The only thing was that chubby, cowardly, rat-faced man they called Wormtail, Peter Pettigrew. The man who had pretended to be dead for fourteen years, who had escaped his previous school year after discovering that he had betrayed his parents, his best friends, to be killed by the darkest and most evil wizard of all - the Worm.

Moment. Now he remembered one more thing from his dream. One you. A cold and whistling voice, he could imagine that this voice came from a reptile. She could almost swear that the one who had spoken had been Lord Voldemort. This was an idea that disturbed him a little. Once again he held his hand to his forehead and remembered that the only times his scar had burned were when he faced the murderer of his parents. He basically barely set foot in the magic world.

-But...-It was said looking into the darkness through the window. Did that mean Voldemort was nearby? At Privet Drivet? No, that was impossible.

Maybe it was just a bad dream. That summer with the Dursleys was proving particularly irritating. Because Dudley had finally reached his goal of being wider than he was tall, the school nurse had imposed a weight-loss diet on him; and Aunt Petunia had imposed that same diet on everyone in the house in solidarity with her son. So she had spent much of the summer on tiny portions of fat-free grapefruit.

If it weren't for the snacks his friends had sent him after he wrote to them asking for help he would now be on the verge of a famished strike. But now he was a little more concerned than his karma, which seemed to be preventing him from gaining any weight.

The pain in his scar was still a bit of a thought. Maybe I could ask, but who?

Dumbledore? I really had no idea where the director would be during the summer. He couldn't help but laugh a little when he imagined the magician on some tropical island on the beach. With his long silvery beard.

Naah, I better not write to him. He was sure that Hedwig would find him, his faithful owl had never missed a delivery. But it would be better not to mention anything to him; if he wrote telling him that he was worried about the scar, he would look like a scaredy-cat.

What about your friends? Hermione would no doubt advise her to write to Dumbledore immediately while she did some research on curse scars. And Ron, well he would consult his father and also advise him to write to the old director. And, deep down, he didn't want to worry his friends either. So, who?

Then, the answer came to him alone: Sirius.

Of course, he couldn't help feeling a little silly for not thinking of his sponsor first. Besides, he was already starting to have time without writing to him. The best thing would be to just mention the subject as part of the letter. He immediately got up and looked for parchment, pen and ink, sat down in front of the desk and lit the lamp:

"Dear Sirius:

I think it's been a while since I've written to you, I'm sorry, but this diet of grapefruit, carrots and lettuce is starting to affect me. Thanks for sending me that cake, and what a piece of bird! It almost didn't fit through the window. I hope you are well, wherever you are. I know it's the middle of summer, but I want to go back to Hogwarts now.

By the way, something very strange happened to me tonight, you know the scar has been hurting a little. You know the last time it happened to me was because Voldemort was at Hogwarts. But it's impossible for him to be around. Do you know if it's normal for curse scars to hurt? Maybe I'm over it.

I will send you this letter as soon as Hedwig returns, he will be out hunting a little. Greetings to Buckbeak.

Love, Harry"

-Yes, that's right-you said that once you read the letter. It sounded safe, so it would keep Sirius calm and he felt more at ease himself. He even felt sleep coming back to him. I yawn as he stretches as high as he is, I look out the window, and I can barely see the streetlight. Surely Hedwig was still late, so I folded the letter and left it on his desk. He would send it in the morning.

So he turned off the light and went back to bed, it was about two in the morning. As he returned to cover himself with the sheets I can't help but remember, Sirius wasn't the only one I hadn't written to in a while. With that last thought he went back to sleep. This time his dream was different.

He did not dream of mansions or snakes. He was, floating alone in the darkness surrounded by a little fog. He forced his eyes a little more and looked around; above his head he could see the stars, but there was no moon. Did that mean he was somewhere with the roof open?

-I murmur as I try to see further, then I hear a voice whistling in his ear:

-That can be fixed," I say. Then, in his hand, a torch like the ones at Hogwarts appeared. He picked it up and immediately it lit up in a blue fire. Then he realized, he wasn't floating on nothing, he was standing on the sea. On the water. It was certainly a new moon night, dark with few stars. He was not sure, so he spoke again:

-Where am I?" she said, but this time you said nothing. "What am I doing here?" This last one she said without thinking. And it seemed that that mysterious you was waiting for her to ask the right questions.

-Look a little further to your right. And so he did. In the distance he could see some lights; he took a hesitant step and realized that he was not sinking, so he walked a little more until he could make out a ship. The light from the torch he carried seemed to make the silhouette shine. It looked like one of those luxury cruises announced by TV. But he was not sure; something made him nervous. As if every fiber of his body was warning him not to go in there alone, not even to come close.

-I don't understand," he said to the voice. Then he heard what seemed to be a faint laughter, he could imagine a lady laughing like that behind the back of his hand.

-You're right, maybe it's too soon. Then the fog of the sea began to gather without wind and swirl around him.

¸,ø¤º°°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°°º¤ø,¸°°ø¤º,º¤ø°°ø¤º,¸,º¤ø°°ø¤º,¸°°º¤ø,¸ ¸,ø¤º°°¸,

The sun had just come out and the morning still felt cool with a bit of mist.

In a small town the activity was just beginning. Some people were already at the market, others were starting to open their stores and in some places the air was already filled with the smell of fresh bread. While the mist continued to rise from the forest that bordered the main entrance to the village, a young man of about fourteen years old was coming towards the village.

He had spent the night outdoors, always preferring to sleep in secluded places. That way he made sure that the wind would carry away his scent and monsters could not so easily track him. But the night before he had a strange dream and it brought him something restless, but first he needed to eat something.

-Mmm- Luckily, because it was so early in the day, there weren't too many people. He chose a small inn for breakfast.

-Here you are, little one," said an older woman holding a tray in front of him.

-Thank you," the boy replied. He took the cup and took a little sip of the coffee.

-You are very young, where are your parents? But the woman who was taking care of him had not taken a single step to leave him.

-I travel alone," the young man replied dryly. His tone was somewhat dry and even with a hint of aggression, but enough to indicate that he wanted to be alone. He took a piece of bread and took a bite while remembering his dream from the previous night.

Flash Back:

He was alone, nothing new. He wasn't sure where, it was night. He was standing on grass, surrounded by thinly cut and tended bushes, rose bushes, tulips, and if his eyesight wasn't deceived by a couple of peacocks. That must have been the garden of some mansion.

He looked at his hands and found a small torch. It was strange, but if it was there it must have been for a reason. Apparently when he felt his desire to explore, the torch lit up in green fire, it was bright and very different from Greek fire. He began to walk and confirmed his suspicions, he was in the garden of a large mansion. He was not sure what he was looking for, but he kept walking and crossed the entrance arch. Apparently a kind of meeting was taking place inside, the place was practically in darkness illuminated only by a few candles. For a moment he was worried that the attendees, dressed in black tunics with masks that resembled skulls, would notice his presence, but none of them did.

I suspected that torch had something to do with it. Then, as he looked around, one of the hooded men stood up and spoke:

-That's enough - I say with you deep and dragging the words - we must wait a little longer. The Quidditch World Cup Final will be the perfect place to remind everyone that we are still here.

The demigod stood there watching and listening to the murmurs of approval from all.

What did those men have to do with the war? Quidditch, what was that? And what did they mean by "magic world"? Still, he had a bad feeling about it. And as if to finish assuring the bad omen, one of you whispered in his ear:

-From now on you will have to try much harder, son of Hades-I hear-it is now that the war will take a new course.

End of Flash Back

That whistling voice and the torch. I could not be very sure, but I could almost assure that the goddess behind that dream was Hecate, goddess of magic and mist. But he had no time, just when he woke up he had received a message from the camp, he was needed there. But now she was somewhat out of the way and would need a lot of energy to transport herself through the shadows. At least it would only cost him half the effort, and where he was going it was just beginning to get dark and that made it easier for him to move.

Once he got in far enough, he couldn't stop thinking about the iris message. It's true that they were very practical, but he couldn't help but miss the letters. The idea of taking the time to write to someone seemed like a remarkable gesture. And that reminded him, he had been in the habit of doing so for a long time. He even remembered the address.

"-Who knows, maybe..." -While he was thinking he was walking, just when he crossed the shadow of an old oak tree he let himself be swallowed up by the darkness. And his next step was out of the nightly shadows under the pile of rocks that in the camp they called The Fist of Zeus-"I write to you..." Ahhh...-He said to himself after yawning, for now he was going to his cabin to sleep a little-It will be tomorrow...

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we come to the end of the first chapter of this small initiative of linguistic expansion hahaha
> 
> What did you think? Did you like it? Did you love it? Did I pique your curiosity, even just a little bit?
> 
> First, I am using an online translator. Pretty good, but we know that they are not infallible so any error or thing you find out of place, I will gladly read your observations. And if you want to comment on the story I'll be happy to read you also hahaha
> 
> What do you guys say? Will you give this new story a chance in your language? I hope so.
> 
> PS: I will be updating every week, I will try to do it on Mondays or Tuesdays. So I hope to see you every week...
> 
> And remember, reviews are part of healthy eating XD


	3. Welcome?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WUJU! After so much waiting, it's finally the first of the month!  
> AND WE HAVE A NEW CHAPTER!  
> *Imaginary cheer* *Engraved applause* *More imaginary cheers* *More imaginary cheers*  
> Yes, yes, I'm excited too, but first I'd like to make a small announcement:  
> As you all may have noticed, English is not my native language. And while I use a pretty good translator, it's clearly not perfect. Many, many, many thanks to all the people who pointed out errors in spelling or grammar that I had no idea there were in the translation. I really appreciate that you took the time to read my story, and don't worry, that's why the following is coming:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am officially looking for a "Beta Reader". That is, a person to whom I can pass the translated document before uploading it to the net and can clean and/or correct any grammatical or spelling errors that may be present. The Beta package comes with multiple benefits: you will be able to read the chapters before anyone else. You'll be mentioned in the author's notes with a huge thank you. And if you call within the next fifteen minutes you will receive a nice sleeve on the occasion of your OTP n_n (hahaha sorry, I couldn't resist).  
> But yes, guys and girls, I want to bring you a quality story that everyone can really enjoy and for that I need the help of someone who really masters the language. And since the updates are every month, and I have the fic way ahead of schedule in Spanish, there really wouldn't be any need to worry about time. So... PLEASE! HELP! I NEED A BETA!  
> (And while we're at it, also one for French, Portuguese and Italian... Hehehehe... What? I'm ambitious n_n)
> 
> Now, with that ready, let's go to the next chapter!

The mestizo camp was just starting to wake up; the conch announcing breakfast sounded waking everyone up, including a certain son of Hades who only hid his head under the pillow. He wanted to sleep a little longer and, if possible, skip breakfast. He could eat at any other time, he wanted to avoid all the other campers and the noise; the crowds always overwhelmed him. As he thought about it he covered himself better with his sheets, a peace that lasted only a few seconds until he heard them knocking a couple of times on his door and entering:  
-You are here - what he needed: to start his day by listening to the voice of "that" person.  
-Mjmm-Responded with apathy from under the pillow. And, although I couldn't see him, I knew the other one was still standing under the door frame staring at him, I could almost see him staring dubiously as he scratched his neck nervously not knowing what to do.  
-He heard it again with doubt in his voice.  
-And he answered her again from his bed. He heard no answer, only the door closing; he unconsciously released all the air in his lungs in a sigh feeling his breath warm because of the pillow. Again he heard his door open, but instead of a greeting he felt his mattress give way to the weight of something. Reason enough to kill someone-Out of here  
-Hello Nico-Before continuing his screaming he felt something cold against his forehead. When he was able to focus his eyes, he saw Jason pressing his head with his index finger, "I'm glad to see you too.  
-Ah...-The jet only knocked the other's hand away and lay back on the bed again. What are you doing here, Grace?  
-I was wondering if you would like to go and have breakfast with everyone, but I see that the son of Jupiter simply did not answer. A few seconds passed when I waited for his cousin to answer something, but nothing.  
-Mm?-Nico only turned slightly to see him with one eye half open.  
It turned out that Jason, thanks to a little business with Cecil from Hermes' cabin, had gotten a couple of the gold plates they used in the dining room pantheon. So they closed the door and sat down to eat, both sitting on the floor at the foot of one of the bunks. Jason was one of the few campers that Nico allowed to have that trust with him, and yet they were in the midst of a comfortable silence.  
-When did you arrive? -I ask suddenly, before taking a sip of his orange juice. Nico finished a piece of toast before answering.  
-Last night, after dinner, I think," he said without giving it a second thought.  
-You could have warned me," suggested the blonde, this time looking seriously at his cousin.  
-I was in Italy, near Florence-Shut down the jet; I hated it when Jason got overprotective with it.  
-Ah, it seems that was enough to calm down the blonde.  
-Aha, forget that." He interrupted, finishing off his breakfast with two pieces of toast and a lot of coffee.  
-I told you, Chiron needs all the leaders in the camp.  
-You know very well that I am not a stubborn shortcut.  
-You are, whether you want to or not.  
-They were silent again as Jason finished eating. Unlike the jet, he needed at least three sandwiches to be satisfied.  
-I saw Percy leave here before I went in.  
-Nothing," the jet answered sharply, "and I don't want to talk about it.  
-Well, I'll just tell you that he's been worried about you, too - Jason, earning a glare from the other - everyone; Nico when are you going to understand that this is your home?  
-When the Tartarus freezes- -The son of Hades grumbled bitterly. And Jason understood that he had to leave it at that, if he didn't want his cousin to disappear for another two months.  
-The advice is until the evening -I say standing up- until then, let's go: we will practice a little with the sword.  
-Okay, but we'll do it in the woods. -Jason had no choice but to give in to Nico's conditions. Otherwise, he would be locked up in his cabin all day. So while they were leaving the cabin thirteen someone else was watching them from their table in the dining room. Percy couldn't help but wonder how it was that only Jason could get close to his cousin without being pushed away.  
-Hello, friend...-Grover sat at his table.  
-Nico is back," he said before taking another bite of his pancakes.  
-Great, that means that this afternoon the whole camp will be there - Grover's comment, so his gaze gets a little droopy - even though he doesn't consider himself part of us.  
-Of course it is, Percy jumped right in.  
-Percy, I know you feel responsible for him. Grover intervened to calm him down, but you know that the children of Hades are not very accepted, and he doesn't like to be sociable.  
-And he hates me -Refunfuño Percy; and this time not even his best friend could contradict him. The truth was that Grover wanted to tell him something, like that he was wrong, but he wasn't lying. And Nico really hated Percy.  
-Look, give him his space-Concilium-Let him, get over it. Maybe in a few years he'll realize that Bianca wasn't your fault and forgive you.  
-We don't have "a few years"," said the green eye. This time he earned a stern look from the satyr:  
-Hey, we're all tense with the war that's coming up," I say, "but you can't think that we're all going to die, be a little more optimistic.  
-Poseidon's son sighed, leaving his silverware on the table.  
-That's better; now, how do you feel?  
-Excuse me-  
-Come on Percy, we're friends-Third Grover-I know you've been having nightmares, you have a little dark circles under your eyes.  
-Just the typical mestizo dreams-He responded with sarcasm-A lake, a huge pirate ship, a cup... All meaningless, but, very intense.  
-Yes, everyone is very touched by this Luke business.  
-I'll go practice with Clarisse, I have to get better if I want to beat him, he... Grover just sat at the table feeling guilty. Luke Castellan was almost a taboo subject in Percy's presence.

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Chiron, out of his wheelchair, was standing leading the shooting practice with the boys from Apollo's cabin. Although half his mind was occupied with another matter, more specifically the issue of the war that was coming upon them. Since Luke's betrayal of Olympus and the declaration of his plan to resurrect Cronus he could not help but worry and train his disciples harder. Each and every one of the half-breeds in the camp considered them his family, and he did not want to see any of them die.  
-Malcolm, from Athena, caught up with him coming back from his canoeing lessons; the centaur was a bit agitated.  
-Young Malcolm, we are still waiting for others to arrive," he answered patiently without taking his eyes off the arrows in the air. "For now the council will be held as agreed... And, Malcolm-Agrego, this time looking at him sternly.  
-Yes Chiron-  
The teacher stood there for some minutes before ending the practice; the aim of those boys could not be more accurate, and he had other worries. Among them were the internal fractures in the camp. The truth was that the trust between them was very weak; yes, they all helped each other, but between the huts they always ended up arguing, they did not trust each other. And the interest of their camp director could not be more motivating, note the sarcasm.  
For the time being he had to focus on his impending problems. I did not know how close the great prophecy was to fulfillment, but I knew it was soon. They had to start moving if they didn't want to lose that war. Although they still had no idea what Luke, or worse, Cronus, was planning, and that put them at a disadvantage. At least he had good soldiers, and he could count on them. Especially after that day.  
The afternoon continued its course quietly; everyone continued their activities until lunch, where Nico and Jason, together with Leo who caught up with them as they passed through the forge, went to eat at the dining room pantheon. Obviously he had to sit alone at his table, without looking away from his plate; partly out of habit and partly because of the insistent look of a certain cousin whom he hated. By the time they had finished eating, Chiron had caught everyone's attention before they got up and cleared their throats:  
-Now, I say from his wheelchair, given that the majority is finally present, it is time to inform them of the decisions that have been made as preparation for the war against Cronus.  
-Annabeth, from her place at the head of her table, looked inquisitively at the centaur.  
-Stop him now, that his forces are not formed," Jason replied from table one.  
-No one asked for your opinion, thank you. One of Ares' boys interrupted.  
-Calm-Third immediately Chiron-Jason is right...-From his place, Rachell looked sadly at his plate. He knew that she was as welcome there as a Roman was -Stopping the formation of the enemy is more important than fighting them; that's why it was decided to send several groups to intervene.  
-What? Multiple crusades? -I ask a guy from Hermes-isn't that too risky? They could attack the camp.  
-Don't be a coward, Waters-  
-Speak for yourself, son of a-  
-Enough! Chiron rarely raised his voice, and when he did, everyone made sure to keep quiet. The decision was made, so: Nico, Annabeth, if you would be so kind...-With a gesture of the hand I would ask you to stand in front of the main table. The blonde did so immediately, but Nico looked dubiously at the centaur and then at Jason, and by accident his gaze crossed with Percy's green eyes- Nico?  
-Yes...-He stood up and immediately placed himself next to Athena's daughter, who didn't even look at him.  
-Well, last night a prophecy was given where you two get involved - the activities director told you - and you better listen to it; Rachell, if you don't mind - I'm adding to the redhead.  
-O-okay..." She answered very nervously, standing up, and then sitting on a silver chair beside Chiron; her eyes became cloudy and a green mist began to swirl around her. When she spoke, it was as if three people were talking at once:

He sits alone, and the twisted one waits for his return  
The little light of solitude sprouts in the fog  
A fear and a voice stirs in the east with the king of the ghosts  
When the blood of wisdom is shed in the west the way will be revealed  
Then he will judge backwards twilight and dawn  
From the universe he will no longer be made monarch  
That in peace and life will not be for long

When she finished reciting, the fog disappeared and Rachell's legs trembled, letting her fall on the silver chair. She looked at Chiron with weariness and he answered with a reassuring smile, the redhead nodded and set out to calm her heart:  
-That makes it clear..." He said, "Annabeth, you must go west, and Nicolas...  
-Wait a minute! -Someone cut it from Athena's table-What's that supposed to mean?  
-Yes, what are you supposed to be looking for? -  
-Calm down, I think it's clear to all of us that trying to predict the prophecies only makes things worse.  
-He's right; although the blood part seems a little, uh, creepy to me-Percy's restraint from his place.  
-If the prophecy says I must seek something, I will. I accept the mission.  
-I was counting on you, my dear," replied Chiron proudly. Then his gaze turned to Nico, who had said nothing.  
-He speaks of the king of ghosts, of course I must go. Several murmurs could be heard, not exactly supportive, against the son of Hades.  
-Then," said Chiron, imposing silence once more, "Annabeth, you must travel west. The prophecy mentions a road and a fog, I think Hecate could give you a clue as to where to start.  
-I thought the same thing- -I add the blonde.  
-Nico, you on the other hand...  
-Europe-I cut the jet with my hands in his jacket pockets; everyone immediately looked at him-I don't know why, but I have a feeling.  
-Ah, a clear feeling, that sounds very sure-  
-Why don't you shut your mouth, McCall? -I'll shut it, Percy.  
-I don't need you to defend me Jackson-Clear, I didn't count on his good intentions not being reciprocated.  
-Silence-For the first time in the day Mr. D deigned to say something; he put his hands on the table and stood up.  
-All that remains is for them to choose their companions to accompany them-Sentencio Quirón, also somewhat tired of the attitude of his campers. Almost immediately Annabeth turned to table three with a half smile:  
-What do you say, algae brains, come on? -His question was just rhetorical. Everyone knew that as a couple, Percy would immediately accept--Grover?  
-Star team-Feast the satyr with Percy. But Chiron intervened, clearing his throat:  
-In fact, Annabett said carefully, "I was hoping that Percy would be the one to accompany Nico; the old continent can be very dangerous for the demigods. At once a tense silence settled over all.  
-But who would want to accompany him? -Silence that was broken by someone from Aphrodite's hut.  
-Chiron, I'm sorry, but I already asked Percy to come with me.  
-Annabeth, you're the most layered demi-goddess I know, you'll succeed even without-  
-I'll go alone -Nico Grumpy, still standing and not looking at anyone. But before he could say anything else or his teacher tried to convince him not to, he felt his shoulders encircled:  
-No, you don't- -Jason looked at him with determination- -I volunteer. I have the experience, I will be more helpful than Percy....- This last sentence was said with a little bit of anger.  
-You don't have to," he whispered, "but only he heard it, and he responded in the same way.  
-Of course," he replied, "now, if you'll allow me... I add, turning to a particular table... We are going on a dangerous mission to the other side of the world.  
-From Hephaestus' table, Leo Valdez showed him his two thumbs up.  
-Well, that makes us a three-Sentenced Jason team-We're ready...

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Normally Nico would be yelling at Jason for getting involved. But the truth was that, deep down, he was relieved to tell it as a partner; of course that didn't save him from a good bump on the head for making a scene. At that moment he was in his cabin, sitting in his desk chair and looking at Jason and Leo in front of him; the latter he didn't know very well. Just some occasional interaction and the rumors he had heard. Which had nothing to envy from those who were running around about him.  
-You don't have to do this just because you're friends-he said condescendingly. But the dark man just shrugged:  
-Hey, you'll need some brains where we're going," he replied. "Besides, I have another friend who will help us.  
-But-  
-Nico, we're in this together- -Jason's shortcut  
-That's right, we'll be competing with the gold team-Second Leo-Like the Outcast Trio!  
-Mayorz, I'll kick you out of the mission if you say something like that again." The owner of the cabin threatened him by throwing a slipper at Jason in the process that contained the desire to laugh.  
-I guess you get used to it..." Leo said to his blond friend, "No?  
-No, you don't. Then he got up and grabbed him by the shoulders.  
-With a gesture of his hand he made the door close. He lit his lamp and took a blank sheet of paper; of course he was going to sleep, only he would first write a little letter.

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discover it next month, in this same channel and in the same profile!
> 
> Anyway, my dear loves, I'm sorry to have to pass you another chapter in "raw". Don't worry, as soon as I get a Beta I'll make sure to update these chapters so you can enjoy them as they should be. For now, just be a little more patient, okay?  
> In the meantime don't forget that reviews are part of a balanced diet to keep your author healthy and updating diligently n_n


	4. Leaving Surrey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Imaginary applause *Engraved applause* *More imaginary applause*
> 
> And following the recent tradition, I'll make a small announcement before moving on to the chapter:  
> Unfortunately I still can't get a Beta to help me clean up my translation. Which led me to wonder, "Should I pause it until I find one? Or do I keep posting so readers don't hang up on me?" Now that I look at it, it's obvious I made the right choice hahaha.  
> Anyway I continue to have an open position for Beta Reader in English, French, Portuguese and Italian translation.  
> PLEASE HELP ME!  
> Just to avoid confusion I need a person to whom I can pass the translated document before uploading it and can clean up and/or correct any grammatical or spelling errors there may be. The Beta package comes with multiple benefits: you will be able to read the chapters before anyone else. You'll be mentioned in the author's notes with a huge thank you. And if you call within the next fifteen minutes you will receive a nice sleeve on the occasion of your OTP n_n (hahaha sorry, I couldn't resist).
> 
> Now, with that ready, let's move on to the next chapter!

-That morning Harry had to endure another of his uncle Vernon's legendary cries. He was in his room preparing his luggage for that afternoon, when the Weasleys would go to pick it up, he already had all his clothes, besides his beloved invisibility cloak inherited from his father, his flying broom given to him by Sirius last year and his magic map of Hogwarts, a gift from the twins also the year before. But while he was emptying all his secret food reserves from the loose board under the bed he heard his uncle calling him from below.  
-He asked himself, "Are they here yet? It was the safest thing to do. As fast as he could under the stairs, but in the hall there was only his uncle with the day's mail in his hands.  
-The man left one of the paper envelopes in her hands and left at a fast pace. Harry just stood there, confused, but the arrival of a group of wizards at the house made the Dursleys quite nervous and irritating.  
He still turned his attention to the cause of his uncle's cry: a letter. That was strange. The only people who wrote to him were owls; the last time he had received a letter in the Muggle mail it was from Hogwarts.  
On the way back to her room she sat down on the edge of the bed and examined it in more detail. It wasn't much different from a regular letter, just a piece of paper folded in half and sealed with a piece of tape; on the back it had one of those postage notes stuck to it to fill in the information, like those they give at the post office:  
"Express Nocturne Hermes: Harry Potter  
London; Privet Drive, Number 4  
Little Whinging  
Surrey  
N.A.  
-He asked himself aloud, "Isn't it...?" Quickly and carefully he removed the tape from the paper and unfolded it. The first thing that caught his attention was a stamp that he had inside and that seemed to have the first words crossed out, although the calligraphy was the same as in the address:

"Dear Harry:  
Hello Harry. I'm not sure if you still remember me, it's been a while since I've written to you. I'm sorry. I've, uh, been through some difficult situations some complicated situations. I was travelling recently, and for some reason I remembered you and when we wrote to each other in primary school. Do they still make you sleep in the cupboard? I hope you are well...  
I'll be going on another trip soon, and it might be a little dangerous, I don't know how long it will take. Still, I would like to keep in touch. I'm not sure exactly where I'm going, I just know that I'll have to travel around Europe but if you want to keep writing you just have to refuse the sending note.  
PS: I would really like-  
PS: just write my name and this stamp, no address is needed.  
Atte.: Nico Di Angelo"

-Nico-Harry was stunned, he even remembered that boy. It was like four years ago, in school before he entered Hogwarts. They had been given the assignment of writing to someone overseas and he had chosen a boy in a boarding school in the United States. They were only supposed to do it a couple of times but they had stayed in touch. The Dursleys never found out, he had convinced the mailman to leave his letters under the mat so his uncles could never take his only friend away from him.  
Of course that was before she met Ron and Hermione; after starting her studies in the magic world she had literally forgotten that little American who was always telling her about the card game she loved and about her big sister; she liked to chat with Nico, they were both orphans and had several things in common, their difficulty to socialize with each other.  
He felt a little guilty when he reread the letter. But it would be nice to keep in touch with an old friend, the first to be fair. As he wrote he couldn't help but think how strange his luck was behaving; the same day he was leaving his aunt and uncle's house with the Weasleys, he received a letter from an old acquaintance.  
It was strange, but, it gave him a certain pleasant feeling in his stomach. As if it was a good omen.  
He finished writing an answer, and put it in a correspondence envelope. He sealed it and wrote on the back:  
"Nico Di Angelo  
United States  
I had said that I didn't have to write down an address, but at least I had to place the country, right? It was weird, but he was flying on a broom so he couldn't say anything about it. I take the stamp and look at it: it was like a normal one. White border, only it looked like one of those shiny "metallized" ones with a golden background and a silver figure, it was like a cane and a couple of snakes surrounding it. I knew him, he was the type you see in ambulances and stuff. It didn't say anything other than the initials "E.H.".  
He assumed it must be some American post office. So he just stuck it on the top corner of the envelope next to the address and went straight to Hedwig who was watching him from his cage:  
-He said, "He's an old friend, but he's not a magician and I have no idea where you can find him. Just take it to some post office and leave it there... Do you mind? The answer was more than clear when his owl, before taking the letter in his beak, grabbed his finger... Ouch!

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After convincing his owl to take the letter to the nearest post office down to the living room, where the rest of the inhabitants of the house waited. Ron had told him they would pick him up at five in the afternoon so it was best to stand at the door and leave as soon as they arrived. Partly because of his eagerness to leave his aunt and uncle's house and mostly to avoid any rudeness from his uncles. They could be very unpleasant to people they did not consider "normal".  
He was sitting on the stairs in the hall; Aunt Petunia was in the kitchen compulsively cleaning up while she kept pursing her lips; Dudley kept walking from room to room confirming every so often that he didn't have a pig's tail coming out of his ass; and Uncle Vernon, in his best suit, waited in the living room with his arms crossed and whispering through his nose.  
In the middle of that atmosphere it was five o'clock... And it was over; a quarter to five, a half to six; a quarter to six:  
-They're late!" Uncle Vernon snarled from the living room.  
-I know..." replied Harry, hands clasped, nervously. "They must have got stuck in traffic, I don't know.  
Harry had to continue to put up with his uncles' complaints about tardiness and oddity and tardiness; at least until his aunt started screaming. As it turned out, the Weasleys had tried to get there through the Flu network, only they never expected to find the chimney blocked by the Dursleys' new stove. That turned out to be one of the funniest scenes in which Harry had to put up with the laughter.  
Mr. Weasley cleared the chimney with a bombardan; one of the twins "accidentally" dropped some candy and before Harry disappeared into the green flames he could see his cousin with a three-foot tongue and growing. It turned out that George's accident was not accidental at all, he just wanted to play a well-deserved joke on Dudley and try one of his long-lasting candies while he was at it.  
Of course it took a good scolding from his father, but he didn't care about me as long as he got that big smile off his green-eyed friend.  
-Oh Harry, he had barely taken a step in the kitchen with Ron and was already trapped in the arms of Mrs. Weasley.  
-A little..." He replied in sorrow; he would never get used to Mrs. Weasley's hasty mother's questions. It was nice and strange at the same time-Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.  
-Then sit down, honey; Ron goes to shake off your clothes, you're covered in ash." The woman ordered with resolution as she made her guest sit on one of the chairs in the ramshackle dining room; next to him sat the twins:  
-And tell us Harry, are you excited about the Quidditch World Cup?  
-Ireland against Bulgaria-Acoto Fred- The best hunters in the world against the best search engine in the world.  
-Of course I'm excited," says Harry, "but it's the first time I've seen professional quidditch.  
-Oh, and wait till you see the stadium, they say it's amazing. In front of him at the table sat a boy, older, red hair, tanned skin, with long hair tied back in a tail and an earring with a fang in his right ear.  
-Harry..." said Fred, tapping him on the shoulder.  
-You know, the one who works for Gringotts breaking curses and earning a lot of gold-Acoto George, also tapping the shoulder of the jet.  
-Ah, yes, nice to meet you; Harry Potter-he extended his hand to you as a greeting. To which Bill corresponded with a firm grip and a nice smile.  
-I know, everyone has told me so much about you that I feel like I already know you-I'm telling the major-you're practically an honorary Weasley now... If you want I can dye your hair red...  
-Oh, sounds great, what do you say Gregory, a new brother? -One of the twins suggested putting his hand on Harry's leg under the table.  
-Sounds interesting, Freddy. The other twin answered the same as his twin; incredibly the green eye was able to contain its reaction. And so, they gave way to a long conversation in which Harry was the target of all the twins' and Bill's proposals for a change of image. They joked but he made the mental note not to approach them and accept any hats or food from the twins.  
During dinner, which was outside given the number of people staying at The Burrow, he met the other older Weasley son: Charly. Ron's brother who worked in Romania with dragons; he was just a couple of years younger than Bill, with heat-tanned skin, a little shorter but definitely more stocky and muscular, he was a nice, handsome guy, with all the burns he had on his arms. There was also Hermione, which was a pleasant surprise for Harry.  
-I arrived this morning, I will also go to the World Cups," he said during dinner. Which, it is worth adding, after spending the summer with cabbage, carrots and grapefruit, she knew more than she knew. From the beef stew to the strawberry ice cream that was the dessert. He felt so good that he almost forgot his dreams: the one of Voldemort and the one of the cruise ship with the mysterious voice. But he didn't want to ruin the pleasant atmosphere at the table, with everyone chatting and making their predictions of the next day's game. He could tell his friends about it after the World Cup.  
When the night was sufficiently present, Mrs. Weasley sent them to sleep, since the next day they would have to get up at dawn. Only then did everyone notice how sleepy they were, and of course they would have to share rooms. Hermione and Ginny would share little Weasley's room; Charly and Bill would sleep in the living room on a large mattress on the floor; and Harry, Ron, Fred and George would have to sleep together in the second room despite all the complaints about Percy having his whole room to himself.  
-I have to deliver a very important report for the job," he defended.  
-Yes, Percy, because measuring cauldron butts will save millions of lives," George quipped sarcastically.  
-Maybe you don't think it's very important but Mr. Crouch-  
-And you want your beloved boss to measure your c- And the only reason Fred didn't finish the sentence was because of Mrs. Weasley's threat not to let him go to Worlds.  
That night Harry had no great problem sleeping; Ron would do it in his bed, and he and the twins on individual mattresses on the floor. It was enough for him and a nice breeze came in through the window; he was so full of good food and so tired that he only had to put his head on the pillow to fall deeply asleep.  
-Good... Ahhh- A yawn and Ron joined his best friend in the dream world. The twins only looked at each other for a moment and smiled.

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The next morning Mrs. Weasley passed through the rooms knocking loudly and calling everyone to breakfast. Harry, who had no problem getting up early, woke up with a pleasant feeling of warmth; only when he opened his eyes he found a bright red color:  
-Freeed...-Grumbled and trying to move, but only feeling more imprisoned-George!  
-Mmmm- And the twins just tightened their grip on their favorite teddy bear. It took a little effort, but after a few strategically painful blows they managed to get rid of those redheaded octopuses-Auch...  
-Brother, there was no need for such violence-  
When they went down to breakfast, Hermione, with her hair very disheveled, and Ginny were already seated, along with the rest of the boys except for Bill, whose mother was still trying to wake up. Mr. Weasley, in a fairly believable Muggle outfit in Harry's opinion, was checking out the tickets for the World Cup. They left the house with Mrs. Weasley saying goodbye with a kiss on the cheek, a hug and a "Take care".  
-Mr. Weasley...-Harry boarded you while you were climbing the hill...-Where will the finals be?  
-Ah well Harry, you see, only the organizers know where the stadium is." The man replied; then he proceeded to explain better by listening to his children ask as well. The closest thing you can say is that the stadium is in England, and already...  
-But what if a Muggle happens to arrive at the stadium? -I ask Ron-Digo, it has happened before, hasn't it?  
-Well, yes," Arthur admitted, "but the stadium also has many other charms which mislead the Muggles. Like if you get close to it right away you remember that you have to do something somewhere else and it will go away.  
-At Hogwarts, too- Hermione joined in the talk-Muggles see nothing but a ruined castle and a danger sign, and I read that-  
-Hermie' don't turn this into a school lesson, okay? -Rogo Ron, getting a stern look from his friend.  
-I add by pointing to a man standing by a tree further down the road.  
-Arthur, the adults reached out and gave each other a big hug as a greeting - you're getting old, we arrived about two hours ago. We already have the transferor-Agrego lifting an old boot in his hand.  
-Yes yes, some of them got their sheets stuck-Funny looking at the youngest ones-Amos you already know my kids; now let me introduce you to Hermione Granger, they are classmates at school and she is the best in the class...  
-Pleasure Miss Granger-Greet the man with a friendly handshake-Amos Diggory, at your service.  
-Much pleasure.  
-And this is Harry Potter, my son Ron's best friend, but I don't have to tell you any more.  
-Mr. Potter, Masters Diggory almost let go of Harry's arm with his energetic greeting.  
-Yes, thank you Mr. Diggory-you would never get used to the reaction of wizards when you meet them. And as if his embarrassment wasn't enough in front of him, he literally kept quiet about why the Diggory name made him so nervous:  
-Hello Harry-  
-Maybe he shouldn't have said it so loudly, or at least that's what Hermione's elbow suggested-hello, how have you been? -The most cliché greeting in history, he couldn't think of anything better and listening to the twins laugh behind his back didn't make him feel any better.  
-I'm going to the Quidditch World Cup final," said the blond man with a big smile.  
-Yes, it's amazing," said Amos, "especially now that I can brag to everyone that you were able to beat Harry Potter.  
-Dad, I told you it was an accident. His son corrected him, but that didn't stop Amos from talking about it; although Harry didn't care, he actually envied Cedric for having a father this proud of him. Luckily things didn't get any more uncomfortable; they took the shuttle to a point near a camp where all the people attending the final were gathered; they met Cornelius Fudge, Fred and George didn't stop bugging Percy calling him "Waterby", and Ludovico Bagman, a former professional quidditch player and World Cup commentator.  
That night, in his tent bunk, Harry had trouble falling asleep. He felt the urge to go to the game bubbling up in his stomach. It was the first time in his life that he was camping, that he was going to a quidditch tournament and also had been able to see Cedric?  
-"Agh, I didn't think so..." -Unbelievable, now I was starting to sound like a schoolgirl.  
He turned and stood on his side trying to clear his mind. And between one thought and the next he wondered if his letter had reached Nico yet. Now that he thought about it, Muggle mail was pretty fast. Maybe Nico would have gotten his letter by now; although, now that he was thinking about it, how could Nico get an answer to him? He was no longer in Little Whinging, and any letter that arrived for him at his aunt and uncle's house would end up as ashes in the fireplace.  
-Mmmm...-It would be best to send him another letter with Hedwig, his owl had never missed a delivery. The ministry had no law against writing to a Muggle. He could always just make up some excuse as to why he had a messenger owl; anyway, he had heard from his aunt and uncle about Americans' reputation for extravagance.  
But I was determined, I would write to Nico as soon as they returned to the burrow.

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Pre-recorded fanfare*.  
> And once again we've reached the end of another chapter of this story... Waoh, that sounded like a soap opera host hahaha  
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed it: I'm looking for a Beta Reader to help me correct the details in the chapters. In the meantime, please bear with me while I find one n///n  
> On the other hand, don't forget that reviews are part of the healthy nourishment for every author.  
> See you in a month my loves!


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